Challenge Yourself is an official Snafu Literature forum contest. It operates on a three-week cycle, as explained below. As the title suggests, the idea is not to best each other, but to best yourself!

THEMEFear:There is nothing to fear except not entering!

RULESOnly prose or poetry allowed. Works must conform with the Snafu Literature forum rules. (Poetry is anything written in verse or with poetic construction rules. Prose is normal writing, i.e. fiction or nonfiction stories or essays.)

Entries must be created WITHIN the cycle time. You MAY NOT use anything you wrote last week, last month, last year, or ever before this cycle. These works may be posted as demonstration of the theme, but MUST be marked as previous work.

If your submission is over 2000 words, please print your work as a PDF and upload it to GoogleDocs or another site which allows sharing of files, then post the link to it here as your entry.

Multiple submissions are totally allowed. However, only the best will be judged. Please post each submission as a separate post.Include a link to your literature thread, literature site, or other repository for works in your post or signature for easy reference for the judge.Submissions must be related to the theme in some way. This is fairly open to interpretation, but it should be obvious to the reader how it relates.The judge cannot submit contest entries.

JudgingSubmissions will be judged by me (Hana). The criteria for judging are:CREATIVITY, STYLE, VOICE, READABILITY (spelling, grammar, and coherence), THEME, and EFFORT. Please note that you are judged against YOURSELF (your previous demonstrated works) and not so much against each other! In this contest, a new writer who puts in a tremendous amount of creativity and effort can defeat an experienced one who has more skill and experience, but didn't push themselves. Further, breaking out of your usual style, or using different thematic elements than you are used to, and trying something new in general are also viewed favorably.

In other words, if you write a paragraph that took five minutes and/or you put no effort into it whatsoever, you won't make it in the top three, no matter how good you are.

Challenge Yourself currently has one judge: Hana. If you would like to be considered as a judge, please PM Hana.Only one judge is in charge and judges a single contest, and any others may post submissions as all other contestants. The main judge may only post exhibition works, which do not count as entries into the contest. If the main judge is not able to end the contest, another may step in and end the contest and start the next. Their entries will then be considered exhibition works.

At the end of judging, first, second and third place will be posted with short critique, plus any honorable mentions at the option of the judge.

The ProcessChallenges operate on a three-week cycle. The contest officially begins on

MONDAY TWO WEEKS LATER: No more submissions accepted. Entries will be judged. An announcement will be made roughly 10-12 hours before the contest closes. Theme suggestions for the next challenge begin. (Submission period ends Monday, May 23, 9 AM, GMT -6, so try to finish Sunday)Judges reserve the right to reject challenge suggestions based on vagueness, being too similarto a recent challenge, or infeasibility.

FRIDAY: Winners will be announced. Voting for the theme for the next contest begins.

MONDAY: Next contest starts.

Good luck and have fun!

Results!*Disclaimer - These critiques were cobbled together during the times I wasn't completely doped up on various medicinal things. If they don't make sense, please take them with a grain (or a few) of salt.

3rd place - IrisIn reading the poem, the actual subject could be about a literal nightmare, the fear of death, or something much more macabre. All of the above fit the theme quite well, so applause for that. I do like how you worked to keep a visual structure; it gives the poem more cohesiveness. That said, the meter doesn't flow naturally to me. I know how exceedingly difficult it can be to wrangle syllables into the correct places, but having the number of syllables on each line be closer than farther will usually help with the flow. That, or have the syllables per line mirror in each successive stanza.

2nd place - RyuteReading your entry made me sad. This is a good thing, as it shows that your poetry is evocative! Using nigh-universal concepts such as the fear of loss and the loss of control is a very smart move. I will counsel you to be careful of your punctuation, though. The comma can be a tricky litte devil, but you must master him! Don't be afraid to throw some other puctuation in, either. Dashes are especially fun in poetry!

1st place - Sam4booksI have a friend who is a published Literary Fiction writer. This reads in a way that is very similar to her work. I don't usually like Literary Fiction as a genre, because it tends to raise more questions than it answers, although I do recognize the thought-provoking nature of said genre. This is thought provoking. However, on the flip side, it makes me want to tear my hair out because of the lack of concrete answers. Personal preference aside, be careful of your use of commas. There is a stylistic choice to use them to indicate where a verbal pause would be if the piece was read aloud, but you should be aware that this tends to cause a lot of grammatical errors in places where other punctuation would serve the same pause effect but be grammatically correct. Explore the use of dashes, colons, and semicolons.

Writer's Block wrote:If you could meet your true inner self, what would s/he look like, and what would s/he tell you?

And since this is about fear, why not write something about it? I'll brew something up, so when it's done, this post will be edited and the stuff'll be on here.

EDIT: wait, like fear as an emotion or do we write about fear? Sorry if my question sounds unclear.

"As she raised a glass of water, everyone exptected they'd be asked the "half empty or half full" question. Instead, with a smile on her face, she inquired, "How heavy is this glass of water?" The answers called out ranged from 8oz. to 20 oz. She replied, "The absolute weight doesn't matter. If I hold it for an hour, I'll have an ache in my arm. If I hold it for a day, my arm will feel numb and paralyzed. In each case, the weight of the glass doesn't change but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes." She continued, "The stress and worries in life are like that glass of water. think about them for awhile and nothing happens. Think about them for a big longer and they begin to hurt. And if you think about them all day long, you will feel paralyzed - incapable of doing anything. Always remember to put the glass down."~ AnonymousPrevious Quote

Ah, JD Salinger. I love his stuff. Shame he died though. Can't wait to read Franny and Zooey after I finish Jane Eyre and The House of the Seven Gables.

EDIT: Holy crap, it's been a long time since I finished reading that short story. I'm sure JD Salinger got some inspiration from it and put a character from the short story into the Catcher in the Rye?

...found her, she's Mary Hudson.

"As she raised a glass of water, everyone exptected they'd be asked the "half empty or half full" question. Instead, with a smile on her face, she inquired, "How heavy is this glass of water?" The answers called out ranged from 8oz. to 20 oz. She replied, "The absolute weight doesn't matter. If I hold it for an hour, I'll have an ache in my arm. If I hold it for a day, my arm will feel numb and paralyzed. In each case, the weight of the glass doesn't change but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes." She continued, "The stress and worries in life are like that glass of water. think about them for awhile and nothing happens. Think about them for a big longer and they begin to hurt. And if you think about them all day long, you will feel paralyzed - incapable of doing anything. Always remember to put the glass down."~ AnonymousPrevious Quote

No, it's a shame he didn't die sooner. His unreleased works will be released 50 years after his death, so my chances of reading them is slime now.

sam4books wrote:Totally writing something about Slender Man!

What a surprise, lol

"Suddenly Frodo noticed that a strange-looking weather-beaten man, sitting in the shadows near the wall, was also listening intently to the hobbit-talk. He had a tall tankard in front of him, and was smoking a long-stemmed pipe curiously carved. His legs were stretched out before him, showing high boots of supple leather that fitted him well, but had seen much wear and were now caked with mud. A travel-stained cloak of heavy dark-green cloth was drawn close about him, and in spite of the heat of the room he wore a hood that overshadowed his face; but the gleam of his eyes could be seen as he watched the hobbits."

"As she raised a glass of water, everyone exptected they'd be asked the "half empty or half full" question. Instead, with a smile on her face, she inquired, "How heavy is this glass of water?" The answers called out ranged from 8oz. to 20 oz. She replied, "The absolute weight doesn't matter. If I hold it for an hour, I'll have an ache in my arm. If I hold it for a day, my arm will feel numb and paralyzed. In each case, the weight of the glass doesn't change but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes." She continued, "The stress and worries in life are like that glass of water. think about them for awhile and nothing happens. Think about them for a big longer and they begin to hurt. And if you think about them all day long, you will feel paralyzed - incapable of doing anything. Always remember to put the glass down."~ AnonymousPrevious Quote

"Suddenly Frodo noticed that a strange-looking weather-beaten man, sitting in the shadows near the wall, was also listening intently to the hobbit-talk. He had a tall tankard in front of him, and was smoking a long-stemmed pipe curiously carved. His legs were stretched out before him, showing high boots of supple leather that fitted him well, but had seen much wear and were now caked with mud. A travel-stained cloak of heavy dark-green cloth was drawn close about him, and in spite of the heat of the room he wore a hood that overshadowed his face; but the gleam of his eyes could be seen as he watched the hobbits."

I double checked my Math, I'll actually be around my 60s...shit. I'm 16 years old by the way.

"As she raised a glass of water, everyone exptected they'd be asked the "half empty or half full" question. Instead, with a smile on her face, she inquired, "How heavy is this glass of water?" The answers called out ranged from 8oz. to 20 oz. She replied, "The absolute weight doesn't matter. If I hold it for an hour, I'll have an ache in my arm. If I hold it for a day, my arm will feel numb and paralyzed. In each case, the weight of the glass doesn't change but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes." She continued, "The stress and worries in life are like that glass of water. think about them for awhile and nothing happens. Think about them for a big longer and they begin to hurt. And if you think about them all day long, you will feel paralyzed - incapable of doing anything. Always remember to put the glass down."~ AnonymousPrevious Quote

"Suddenly Frodo noticed that a strange-looking weather-beaten man, sitting in the shadows near the wall, was also listening intently to the hobbit-talk. He had a tall tankard in front of him, and was smoking a long-stemmed pipe curiously carved. His legs were stretched out before him, showing high boots of supple leather that fitted him well, but had seen much wear and were now caked with mud. A travel-stained cloak of heavy dark-green cloth was drawn close about him, and in spite of the heat of the room he wore a hood that overshadowed his face; but the gleam of his eyes could be seen as he watched the hobbits."

"Suddenly Frodo noticed that a strange-looking weather-beaten man, sitting in the shadows near the wall, was also listening intently to the hobbit-talk. He had a tall tankard in front of him, and was smoking a long-stemmed pipe curiously carved. His legs were stretched out before him, showing high boots of supple leather that fitted him well, but had seen much wear and were now caked with mud. A travel-stained cloak of heavy dark-green cloth was drawn close about him, and in spite of the heat of the room he wore a hood that overshadowed his face; but the gleam of his eyes could be seen as he watched the hobbits."

That was my name, my inheritance, my curse. Elisheba Gulden no longer existed. She had died, the moment I entered those train carts, the moment I left my home. Who are you, faceless stranger? Who were you before? Were you a beautiful person, just as I was? Did you have a name, just as I did?

You and I are so alike, and yet, I fear you. I fear that skeletal figure, that pale face, those clothes as black as night. I hate the way you stare, as if you are waiting. What are you waiting for, my death? I hear you laughing, and I hate it. Often when I look in the little water they hand me in my cup after a day of work in the fields, I do not see me. No. You are there. No matter where I go, no matter who I turn to, you are always there as if waiting for me to die. Who are you?

Sometimes, as I watch my brethren die before me, I think of you. It is as if I knew you before, before all this hate, this suffering. Once, I felt your caress. It was inside my room, back when I still knew my name. I was a child, and it was storming. I felt you then and I will continue to feel you. I will feel you when I take that first virgin kiss. I will feel you when I have my first birth. I will feel you when I send my child away. I will feel you when I hear of their deaths, and think of my mother’s death. You are always there, waiting for me to die. I know who you are.

I see you in the flames. Whenever my brethren beg me to help them I see you in the reflections of their eyes. You think I do not know you? Do you think I have not felt you before? You are everywhere, there’s no escaping you. You know this, so you jeer and laugh. How I long for the day when Yahweh strikes you down, when you cease to exist. I pray to Him every day. Yet, Yahweh tells me patiently in my sleep, “It will never go away, you must learn to coexist.”

Why?

Why should I live with you? Why must you bother and ruin my life? Why must you make this camp your resting place? GO AWAY. Leave us to die. Lead us into those torturous flames you have created, gas us with your intoxicating poison, scorch every fiber of our being until we completely turn into you; a people without a face. You monster who lives under our bed, behind our closet door, in the dark corners of our mind, liberate us! So we can finally be free of this earthly corner!

Yet Yahweh gently reminds me, “It will never go away, you must learn to coexist.”

I should have never believed Him. I should have killed myself before I gave you that chance. But instead I was patient. Now, all I see is you. Who are you, a number, a ghost of the past, even though I can still touch you? Look, you are within my grasp. I see your sunken eyes, your skeletal appearance.

Then I realize that you were me, my inheritance. All I wished for was is your death. Yet as I lay in my deathbed Yahweh gently reminds me, “It will never go away, you must learn to coexist.” Ah, there you are now, waiting for me to die. You have transformed into my sons and my daughters, and my dear husband. When I look into their eyes, all I see is you. So, I gently remind them, “It will never go away, you must learn to coexist.”

They may never understand what I’m talking about. They have yet to know you as I have. Perhaps one day they will learn to coexist too. But until that day comes, you will be there, waiting for them to die. And when they do, they will take your hand as I have, so you can coexist together.

Humans are very emotional creaturesWe can be brave against a multitude of challengesSuch as killing lions and bearsBut crumble to our knees against the most natural occurrencesSuch as sickness, depression, and love

Every human has a multitude of things that they fearThis is based on the life experiences one hasBut there is one thing that we all share Regardless of lifestyle, race, or originSharing the greatest fear of all: Change

Nothing stays the sameEverything is always changingEveryone is comfortable where they are nowTheir current job, their current houseTheir family, their friendsThe warmness you feel in the presentAll of these will changeAnd their change will bring about the cold horrorThe horror of losing what you have become so attached toA cruel but definite truth

What does the future hold?Will you still be living in the same place?Will you still have the same job?Will you lose any loved ones?Time is a monstrous creatureIt changes what we love dearlyTaking away all that we have known and loveAnd thrusting us into the unknownArmed with nothing but our past memories

Sadness, remorse, grief, is inevitable for usThinking about what could have been is uselessNothing can prevent the changes that will occur in lifeThe poison that is time is slowly killing everythingWe stand powerless against forces beyond our controlAnd lie on the ground, cold and frightened by what lies ahead

We can do nothing but accept itWe can't look away from the incoming tragedyNo matter how much you run away the cruel reality remainsAccept that change must occur for better or for worseEnjoy the moment since it will never lastAnd then look onward to the distant possibilitiesWith this fear clenched deep to our heartsAs we are forced to drift into the unknown.